-
Both
I made myself one promise back in early August and it was this: You must feel everything.
Under no circumstances would I allow myself to turn back into a stone.
I made this promise to me now and to my 18 year old self.I don’t read articles on how to get through a divorce. I simply wade through enormous trauma while the world goes on all around me.
What does divorce feel like, you might wonder? It feels like BOTH. I really hate both. I don’t like how the word sounds or writing it, and I really don’t like feeling it.
Now you might be imagining what I mean by both. Well, you’re in luck because I’ve got too many examples.
Both comes up when my best friend visits me for the weekend and in her presence I feel strong enough to know that I can get through this, but then when I see her bags packed next to my front doorway before her flight home I become needy and vulnerable and fall apart instantly. It feels like I can’t have nice things because I will just ruin them when they come to an end by crying uncontrollably.
Both arrives when I’m making bold and confident professional decisions in the face of inequity, standing up for myself, telling people what I need and deserve while I am also quietly so unsure of myself and questioning if I am making the right choices.
Both kicks my ass when I think about my future because I’m excited that I’ve finally landed on the path that was meant for me this entire time. I have lofty goals and passion and so many ideas and yet I also fall on the carpet crying at night because the present is so dark and murky.
Both finds me when I’m finally able to have some alone time without my kids. I love being alone and often prefer it. Being alone used to make me happy when I’d take a break from being a mom to go for a solo run, but now I’m plagued by the silence when they aren’t here. I used to like quiet, but now I can’t be in my home alone ever without music blasting. The thrill of alone time is gone because I’m too tired to enjoy it and being awake often feels like torture because I am so exhausted.
Both reminds me that I am dead and alive. I’m a zombie for having not slept for countless weeks. I’m also feeling things I haven’t felt for a long time. There are moments during the day when I really do feel alive.
Both forces me to help my kids feel stable while I silently fall apart.
Both is my friend and enemy, guiding me toward a place where I’m healthy and me again, but not cutting me any slack in the meantime.
-
More
More of me.
My time, my generosity, my patience, my understanding, me.
They want more.
Then, they want it all.More and more and more until there’s nothing left of me to give.
Like the Giving Tree, I start out as my whole self, beautiful and strong.
I fade over the years, each “more” pulls me more away from me.
But, I’ll always give you more.
You need it.
My light is bright.
You want and ask and beg for more so you can shine too.How come the more you ask, the worse you become?
How come I fade, but you fade too, into deeper darkness than when you started?My light doesn’t work for them.
I can’t make them happy.
I try and fade to almost nothing to brighten them up.
I won’t do that any more.
I promise me to keep my light for me.
I’ll know when it’s right because it won’t feel like I’m giving me away.
It will feel like I’m choosing to share me with someone who already has roots and is standing on their own. -
Magnet
I am reviewing our 42 page divorce agreement.
It begins innocently enough with a few gut-punching lines about where we got married, the ages of our children and their birthdays.The first line mentions our anniversary date: Oct. 21, 2012.
Surely the agreement had to begin somehow, but why did it have to start with a happy memory? I received an anniversary card from today from a relative in California who hasn’t heard the news. Gut punch number two.Gut punch number three: We’ll never make it two days from now to what would have been our 11 year wedding anniversary. Instead I am being mentally punted back to a time way before our marriage, way before I met him.
There’s something about visiting your parents’ house, tail between your legs as a single mom that feels fully like gut punch number four.
I’m being forced against my will to start over.
I can’t put my finger on what age I’ve been returned to, but the only age it could be before the trauma began in my life would be 17. I don’t feel 17.
I feel me at my age now with a striking sense of confidence and clarity, but I think I found my track back to my silly laughter from 17. Things I found funny as a teenager have returned. And I laugh more than I have during our entire marriage. I laugh at super inappropriate things at inappropriate times, just like teenage Joanna.
So, I am carrying this Frankensteined version of me, a weird mix of 17 and 38. She’s brave, confident, confused, sad and fun.
And this version of me is a magnet. Part of my magnet magic is that people are beautifully coming to my rescue in too many ways to count. They all, in their own ways, are able to lift me out of my darkness when I am in their presence. And because I’ve got so many people, I’m also hearing their beautiful hopes and dreams and stories.
I’m honored lately to be witness to people sharing their dark stories of past trauma with me and I am grateful to be a listening ear for the creative and out-of-the-box thinkers in my life sharing what makes them tick and how they are actively pursuing their goals.
You people are more beautiful than you realize. I see you. I think you are open to telling me because maybe you trust me a little extra now that I am baring my soul more now and it gives you permission to share yours.
I, of course, am grateful for everyone who has talked to me and continues to help me with my dark stuff.
But, I’m really loving this mix of 17 and 38 year old me that’s showing up right now and able to be witness to how incredible the people are that surround me.
-
Irreconcilable differences
Unforeseen circumstances. Irreconcilable differences.
The polite ways to say shit has hit the fan.
Every time I have to use and see these words to describe my current situation, it feels true and false at the same time.
Were my circumstances really unforeseen? Or did I choose to ignore all of the red flags?
Are our differences truly irreconcilable? Or did we at some point replace the true and deep musings and conversations of our early relationship with discussions about daily schedules, meal planning, gymnastics and basketball sign ups and what we’d watch on Netflix?
I did not notice we had stopped talking until it was over.
I was indifferent to our circumstances. It was not intentional.
-
Lean in
Who am I when I’m not a mom?
Who am I when I’m not planning the next phase of my life?Who am I?
I know what everyone I’ve met has wanted me to be. I sensed it from their subtle and not-so-subtle clues and behaviors, and I morphed into the perfect version of me for every single one of them.
It’s my super power and the super destroyer of my authentic self.Who am I?
I can tell you when I feel most at peace.
I am peaceful when I’m walking in the woods alone, writing full novels in my head.
Actually, a more honest answer is this: I’m always peaceful when I am alone.
I notice sensations and breezes and bees that simply land on the words I’m writing in my journal.I’ve never let myself be with just me.
To know who I am.It will be the greatest gift I can give to myself to just stop.
No next plan, no dreaming of the perfect future.Just be here. Now.
Let what my future is be what it is without my obnoxious intervention. -
M is for matriarchy
M is for matriarchy*
The antidote to patriarchy.M is for mama.
The gentle ruler of our magical kingdom.M is for moments of peace.
We’ve been waiting too long for this day.M is for messes.
We eat on the carpet. We spill food on our clothes. No one says a word.M is for music.
We take breaks from mealtimes to dance. It’s Nancy our neighbor with her accordion. It’s the sound of crickets at night when my screen door is open.
M is for magic.
You tell me you’re braver when I hold your hand. It fills my day with hope.M is for marriage.
I believed it was my one true path to happiness. What a mirage.M is for mixed emotions.
I cry and laugh everyday.M is for memoir, five years in the making.
M is for moving on.
It’s hard work, but now I see the path before me that was hidden.
*Shout out to D for inspiring me to write this blog post. -
An urgent case for stardust
You don’t have to be jealous of me.
You just have to be better.Tune in. Slow down. Enter their worlds full of magic and let their stardust fill you up.
The less you can be an adult with them the better. Make a fart joke. Dance. Watch their faces carefully when they find magic in something we’d consider mundane. Laugh at her jokes. Bask in his wisdom.
When they are fighting or crossing a line, ask yourself why. Don’t assume they are flawed. Assume they are tired or hungry or sad or angry.
They won’t remember all details of our divorce. They will instinctively remember the feelings when they are 27, 45, and 80. The emotions will catch them off guard and throw them on a high speed train right back to 10 and 5.
Find the patience even if you’re faking it at first. Sometimes I fake it too, but it always blurs a line and I find the real and true actual joy deep down. Every single time.
When you are tired, ask for help. I’m here. Your family is too. They’d catch a plane in a heartbeat for you.
The truth is that they will carry this unstable time in their bones forever. Make sure you stabilize yourself now.
Start immediately.
-
Snakes and overalls
What’ssssss up with all of the snakes in my path lately?
If you know anything about me, I’m not one for leaning into signs or symbols from the universe.
But, the snake thing is becoming hard to ignore.
For about two years now, at least seven snakes have crossed right in front of me while I’m either walking or running.
It’s not, “oh, hey, check out that snake WAY over there”, it’s “This snake is literally in my path and I have to take action in order to not step on it”.
One time I was running and only saw the snake at the last second and had to do a hurdle-style leap over a giant snake.
That one took my breath away. I was actually frightened.Yesterday I went for a long walk and two snakes crossed right in front of me. The second time, I was sure no one would believe me, so I took this photo:
Ssssssso, snakes, I don’t really know what you’re up to around me, but if you are trying to scare me, you can’t really. I am already going through something scarier. But, if you wanna tell me you symbolize some sort of shedding of skin and great transition, I’ll allow it.
Today is a traumatic day for me. I don’t yet have the words to describe it, but we’ll no longer be living under the same roof. Our kids starting today will split time between the two of us. I woke up and put on the overalls I bought after we decide to get divorced. It’s an act of resistance. You wouldn’t notice the air of resistance on the street if you aren’t a close friend of mine, but if you are, you’d understand I’m in my full overall glowing glory today.
Evidence below:
